


“This is Not New, It Only Feels Like it.”

by Radclyffe



Series: #fictober 2018 [23]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 10:37:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16386302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radclyffe/pseuds/Radclyffe
Summary: Baker Street - Some weeks after Sherringford





	1. 221A - Martha Hudson

**Author's Note:**

> I have been writing 221B Ficlets for 22 days as part of the #fictober challenge found here: http://barbex.tumblr.com/post/178393189908/a-list-of-prompts-for-october-write-something and I wondered - what about the other flats at 221 Baker Street, do they ever have ficlets of their own? So I had a bit of time at the weekend and this happened.

Mrs Hudson is minding Rosie while upstairs John is wrangling with an electrician about the rewiring.

Her own flat suffered only minimum damage. The windows were blown out and the ceilings have had to be replastered and oh… the dust! However, not unlike Martha Hudson, these buildings were built to last. If they survived the Blitz, they could survive any old patience bomb or whatyoucallit that Sherlock’s psychotic sister could throw at them.

Mind you, the shock of seeing a whey faced Mycroft land at the foot of her stairs could have been enough to kill her. He was in a state. She might have relented and made him a cup of tea… if the landing hadn’t been ablaze.

Anthea had been a godsend, getting the place boarded up, booking her into a hotel at Mycroft’s expense and sorting out the insurance. Now John seemed to be happy to project manage the whole renovation job, and she had the pleasure of Rosie’s company while he did it.

“Say Nana” Mrs Hudson coaxes with a spoon of puréed carrot. “Say Nana”

Poor motherless babe, so easy to look after; no doubt that would change once the terrible twos set in. Still, she has plenty of experience of dealing with tantrums and it is wonderful to have her boys under her roof again.


	2. 221B - John and Rosie Watson

The motion-triggered grenade had been particularly random in the damage it had caused. The sitting room had caught the brunt of it, while Sherlock’s bedroom had emerged relatively unscathed. The kitchen was a mess, not helped, no doubt, by the amount of volatile liquids that Sherlock stored there. The plasterboard wall in John’s old room had collapsed, revealing a huge space under the eaves which had, in his opinion, great potential. There was even an ancient hand basin fixed to the far wall, probably left over from when the household had a servant, but hopefully meant the upper floor still had a water supply.

It should be easy to add another bedroom with an en suite, and eventually, if things turned out the way he planned, his room could be turned into a sitting room for Rosie when she was older, and needed her own territory.

Mrs Hudson had surprisingly comprehensive insurance for a residential building in central London, though as the widow of a drug dealer she was probably right to be prepared for every eventuality. Mycroft’s pockets were deep and even John, with Mary’s life insurance in the bank, was in the position to contribute.

John had made a couple of rough sketches and thought his ideas could work. Pleased with himself, he went to talk to the builders.


	3. 221C - Sherlock Holmes

“What’s that doing down here?”

John has descended the stairs to the basement flat in search of Sherlock.  221C has been damp proofed and redecorated as part of the refurbishment but it is still musty and has next to no natural light. John has never liked it since the incident with the trainers.

John is investigating a mystery. Over the past few days a number of items have gone walkabout from 221B. So much was destroyed either by fire or water that it is hard to keep tabs on everything but he knows the replacement Union Jack cushion is missing. This morning, after he caught two of Mycroft’s gofers dismantling Sherlock’s bedroom, John decided he needed to discover what’s going on.

The first thing he sees, along with the periodic table, and the picture of Edgar Allen Poe is Sherlock’s bed. Hence the question.

Sherlock jumps, “Er…relocating…making upstairs safer for Watson”

John sighs “You were there when we discussed the renovations. Did you hear anything we said?”

Sherlock blinks; it’s true he has selective hearing. “You… Rosie…” he falters “living here… 221B… lot to take in… all a bit new” 

John is exasperated with his friend, the idiot.

“This is not new; Sherlock… it only feels like it… When I said move down here I only meant your chemicals!”


End file.
